


Downfalls of Being Part Tribble

by ObsidianCrow



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crack?, Cuddling, Eating, M/M, Probably ooc, Tribbles (Star Trek), dafuq is this, lots of eating, slight mpreg, tribble!Khan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianCrow/pseuds/ObsidianCrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tribble genetics were used in the 'creation/augmentation' of Khan. They only kick in when he eats a good amount of food. His careful schedule of one-small-meal-a-day-at-most is thrown off when he's taken prisoner aboard the Enterprise.</p>
<p>Khan's Tribble genetics overtake the rest of his common sense, and his crew isn't here to help him this time. That task ends up going to James T. Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek
> 
> A.N: Sorry if I've got a bit of the continuity of the movie off, I haven't seen it in over two weeks ;-; wai u fade, memoriez of STID?
> 
> Based off this prompt:  
> http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/1695.html?thread=233119#t233119

Khan had never been more grateful for near-starvation. The last thing he needed to happen while under Marcus's control was for _those_ genes to kick in.

 

Then he allowed himself to be taken onto the _Enterprise_ as a prisoner. After explaining just why there were men and women in torpedoes, Kirk had returned with a tray overflowing with food. Khan _could not_ allow that to enter the same space as him

 

Khan raised a brow at the captain. “I doubt it will be long until Marcus reaches us. I would have thought the captain would have better things to do than feed a prisoner.”

 

Kirk, ignoring Khan, typed a few things into the interface beside the brig glass. The circular device opened up enough for the tray to fit through.

 

Without the glass blocking it, the smell of the food hit Khan head on. He tried to control his breathing, the slightly-deeper breaths only bringing more of that delicious scent to him. He accepted the tray.

 

Khan set the tray on the lonely metal bed, suddenly not caring if he was being watched, bringing a piece of synthetic steak to his mouth. The augment couldn't keep the sound of pure pleasure from escaping. He opened his eyes to seek his next piece.

 

Somehow, he had already eaten it all. Hands and face covered in crumbs, he realized just how screwed he was.

 

“...would you like more?” The captain wore an expression between shock and amusement.

 

“Yes,” Khan was answering, before he could stop himself.

 

~

 

Kirk couldn't help but stare as Khan gobbled down a third tray of food. Even if he hadn't eaten in days, how could his stomach possibly contain that amount of food? Even stranger, the augment was making the most pleased sounds as he ate. 

 

The more Khan ate, the more he seemed to lose his composure. Jim had planned to bring one tray, and possibly earn Khan's trust. It was unlikely, but worth an attempt. Now, he was trying to figure out what the man was playing at. If Khan was even playing. God, Jim hoped Khan was just playing.

 

“...um, would you like some more?”

 

Eyes that had been cold and calculating a mere ten minutes ago were now wild. “Yes,” came the simple response.

 

When Kirk returned with more food, he nearly dropped it all over the ground. He whipped out his comm, quickly calling up sickbay. “Bones, I need you in the brig.”

 

“ _Did that damn criminal rip someone's arm off_?”

 

“No, but... just get down here. Kirk out.” Cautiously, Kirk approached the barrier between himself and the superhuman. “Khan?”

 

Khan swallowed the chunk of brigbay-bed he had chewed off, looking up at Kirk from his position on the floor. The augment somehow tore off another piece of brigbay-bed, shoving it into his mouth.

 

Kirk winced at the loud screeching of metal being chewed. “I brought food. You don't have to eat the bed.”

 

Khan pushed to his feet, approaching the barrier. When Kirk opened it, the tray was snatched from his hands. This time, both the food and the tray were devoured.

 

~

 

Khan couldn't control his actions. _Eat,_ his mind insisted, and it was all he could do to maintain a stream of conscious thought. Why tribble genetics were used when creating him was beyond his knowledge, but he did know it was the most nightmarish part of his existence.  
A dictator of a third of the world, easily reduced to a tribble's level if overfed.

 

He doubted he'd get out of this mess without the help of his crew. Last time, it had taken three augments forcing him to starve for a week before he could eat his usual small meals without going tribble-crazy. Or, more correctly, three augments _cuddling_ him for a week and keeping him from food.

 

The worst part was that the need to eat anything and everything was the most benign side-effects of his tribble genetics.

 

_Not again_. He could feel it already. The start of his 'asexual reproduction.' The only blessing of his 'asexual reproduction' was that it took three months instead of the three minutes it took a tribble. Otherwise he'd have enough children to fill a galaxy.

 

~

 

“What in god's name is he doing?”

 

“Eating the bed,” Kirk replied.

 

“Eating the... What is he, an oversized tribble?” Bones said, exasperated. “Has he told you why he's eating everything?”

 

Kirk watched as Khan finished off half of the bed. “I didn't really ask.” Honestly, he had been too bemused to do much of anything.

 

Bones grumbled something under his breath, approaching the glass. Kirk watched on with curiosity, wondering what Bones could get out of the augment. “Mr. Singh.” No response. “Khan.”

 

The brunette looked up from the bed, swallowing yet another bite. “Mm?” he replied. Kirk was amazed at how professional Bones was, not even flinching at Khan's bizarre behavior.

 

McCoy said, quite plainly, “Is there a reason you're eating everything?”

 

Khan had another mouthful of bed, but offered a nod. Around the metal, he gave a barely distinguishable, “I need my crew.” When that bite was gone, he dropped to his hands and knees to reach the legs of the bed, placing his mouth straight on it and gnawing a piece off.

 

Bones eyed the man. “If that was the only reason, you would've been on an eating rampage way before we took you as our prisoner.”

 

The bed was almost gone at this point.

 

~

 

_Stop eating_ , Khan ordered of himself, but his body refused to listen. His teeth closed around thin air, going _clack_ as they hit together. Panic tore through him, sending him searching blindly for more to eat. The floor had no grooves to allow him to rip pieces from it. He turned his attention to the wall, spotting the interface slightly protruding. He was shoving it down his throat before another thought could pass through his mind. Wires appeared. He pulled them out and ate them as well.

 

“Khan, we can't help you if we don't know what's wrong,” a man was saying. The doctor.

 

Khan found himself saying, “Tribble genetics,” wincing as his most carefully guarded secret was so easily spilled. He alone, amongst his brothers and sisters, had tribble genetics testingly mixed in. For all those years, his family had helped him keep the genetics in check and secret.

 

Now, he was devouring a starship and revealing his secret to strangers that hated him. How was he to take down Marcus while in such a state?

 

He was going to kill something if he didn't find something else to eat. Or maybe eat his hand off.

 

Abrupt shouting momentarily distracted him. He watched as Kirk lowered the barrier, ignoring the doctor's protests. The blond was before him, hesitating mere inches away. “How can I help you?”

 

There was _one_ way to keep his mind off of eating, but eating his appendages off was preferable. A hand was reaching out towards him. Khan swiftly threw himself back. He looked around the room, but there was nothing to eat. Foodfoodfood. Was the barrier down now? He got to his feet, rushing to it.

 

It was still up.

 

That hand settled on his shoulder. Khan had a moment to recognize how horribly things were going, before his biological reaction set in. The hand was warm, even through his star-fleet issue shirt. His eyes fell shut against his will, and he pressed into the touch. A soft coo escaped his lips. His face burned as he was turned around to face the young captain.

 

Kirk opened his mouth, snapped it shut, then opened it again.

 

“I need... to rescue... my family,” he managed to say, the words scratchy as he forced them out.

 

“I'll keep them safe,” Kirk assured, “but I might need your help to do it. And you're no use like this.”

 

Khan became positive that, were he not an augment, his face would melt off from how hot it had become. He had done worse things under Marcus's control (or, allowed them to be done to him), for the sake of his family. If he needed to do this for their sake...

 

~

 

Kirk suddenly had an armful of senseless augment. His first thought was that Khan was going to eat him, but all Khan ended up doing was snuggling up to Kirk. Khan nuzzled his face into the crook of Kirk's neck, arms securing around the captain's waist and holding them flush together. “Whoa there,” Kirk said. He could feel the rippling, solid muscle pressed against him, breathing coming with difficulty as hot breath beat against his neck. When he did breathe, his head was filled with the tantalizing scent of the superhuman. Perhaps he'd be the one doing the eating. “Khan?”

 

“This,” Khan mumbled into Kirk's skin, “is what I need.”

 

Jim looked over Khan's shoulder, into the eyes of his best friend. “What do I do?” he mouthed.

 

“Haven't a clue what you just said, kid,” Bones replied, “but I advise you to stay in there until his condition stabilizes. When I stop worrying about him eating my lab, we can give him a scan.”

 

A pinprick of pain spiked in Kirk's neck, the blond yelping in surprise. “Khan! What the hell?”

 

In response, the superhuman pressed impossibly closer.

 

“Just imagine he's a giant tribble. How do tribbles like to be treated?” McCoy offered.

 

He was supposed to imagine this man, who had single-handedly taken down a Klingon army, as a giant tribble? The mere idea was laughable.

 

Still, Bones tended to know what he was talking about. Jim lifted a hand, running his fingers through Khan's hair. The dark strands felt like silk against his skin. Khan purred and clung on tighter. He was actually becoming hard to hold up. Kirk slowly lowered them to a sitting position, Khan never once removing his tight grip on Kirk. The brunette ended up straddling Kirk's lap, nuzzling close and cooing as Kirk ran a hand up and down the augment's clothed back.

 

“Wait,” said Kirk, frowning. “If you're like a giant Tribble, does that mean you're going to divide into a bunch of... uh... Khan's, from eating so much?”

 

Instead of answering, Khan nipped at Kirk's neck as punishment for halting his gentle petting. Kirk slid a hand under the back of Khan's skin-tight shirt, stroking the solid expanse of the augment's back. Only then did Khan say, words interspersed with tribble-like cooing, “If we get this under control, I shall only have one child in three months.”

 

“Damn, three months instead of nine?”

 

Khan agreed with a soft sound, relaxing fully into Kirk's hold.

 

“Captain,” a voice was saying. Jim looked up, giving the newly-arrived Spock a nod to continue. “Admiral Marcus has caught up to us. He is requesting an audience with you.”

 

Jim cursed. “Fine. Bones, can you...?”

 

Bones grimaced. “I didn't sign up to cuddle augmented criminals.” Despite his words, he was undoing the barrier and entering the brig.

 

“Doctor, you have left the shield down,” Spock informed.

 

“Yeah, Khan broke it, so it can only be opened from the outside. I'm not locking myself in here with him.”

 

Kirk went to pull from Khan, gasping for breath as Khan's grip became painful. He relaxed back into Khan's arms, regaining his breath as Khan too relaxed. “Khan, I need you to let go of me.” Khan completely ignored Kirk.

 

Sighing, Bones said, “Only see one way to do this.”

 

The hypo was in Khan's neck in an instant. Khan grip only loosened marginally, though he did make one of the funny squawks a stepped-on tribble would make.

 

“Or two ways,” Bones amended, “but you owe me for this, Jim.” The doctor knelt down, wrapping his arms around the augment and pulling him from Kirk. Kirk felt cold as the warm, snuggling brunette was pried off of him. Khan only allowed it because McCoy was rubbing his hands up and down Khan's arms. Despite the soothing gesture, Bones' expression was murderous. “Don't just stand there and stare. Go figure things out. Or give me an airlock to throw this tribble-terrorist out of.”

 

Khan made a sound of disapproval. “I would prefer Kirk's assistance,” he said, the words contradicting his actions. He was snuggling back into McCoy, his back to the doctor's chest.

 

“Shut up, you think I want to be doing this either?” McCoy huffed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support and comments ^-^ wow you guys flatter me. Hopefully this chapter is appeasing at the very least. If not, you can pretend it ended on the last chapter. *nods*
> 
> Tell me if I need to raise the rating or add more tags, plz. 
> 
> Just so you know, I like any mix of Khan, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy. Any of the two of them or three or all four together. Yup. So as this isn't a specifically directed fic, I might end up putting hints of all in this xD Who knows?
> 
> Yeah... crack territory... *coughs* heh... heh...

When Kirk returned to the brig, he didn't know what he had expected to find. He just knew it wasn't this. Khan was curled up on Bones' lap, eyes shut, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. Disbelievingly, Kirk asked, “Is he asleep?”

 

Ignoring the question, Bones huffed, “It's about time you've returned.” He shoved the augment off of him.

 

Khan woke with a jolt, arms flying out and catching him on instinct. Then, he was making his way out of his cell, past Kirk, scrutinizing his surroundings. 

 

“Khan, Admiral Mar-”

 

The augment was suddenly before him, eyes wild. “Food.” A single word, laced with threats. They really didn't have time for this. Kirk sighed, yanking Khan into an embrace. Immediately, the superhuman melted into Kirk's form, returning the hold and pressing close. 

 

Kirk said into Khan's ear, “Admiral Marcus is going to destroy the _Enterprise._ It holds both my and your crew.”

 

“Not good,” Khan murmured, lowering his head a bit.

 

Jim gasped as lips latched onto his neck. “Khan,” he scolded. “Your crew's gonna _die_ if we don't do something.”

 

Khan gave a last nibbling kiss that weakened Kirk's knees more than he'd like to admit, before lifting his head so they were eye-to-eye. “I need you to touch me.”

 

Jim slipped his hands under Khan's shirt, stroking the silky skin of the augment's sides. A pleased purr was accompanied by the slight clearing of hazy blue eyes. “We found a way to enter the _Vengeance._ Your strength and knowledge of the ship would really help.”

 

“What do I...” Khan broke off, frowning. “What...”

 

“Keep talking.” Jim leaned close, pressing a kiss to the corner of Khan's lips. Soft, like the rest of his skin. Khan froze against him, only to shiver as Kirk moved his kisses to a sharp cheekbone. 

 

~

 

Khan's mind began to clear as hot kisses were trailed down his face, tangling a hand in Kirk's hair to keep the blond from leaving. This. He needed it. What was he supposed to be doing? 

 

His eyes closed of their own volition as lips caressed his jawline, another of those humiliating coos escaping him. “Why should I help?”

 

“Because,” Kirk said, hot breath beating against Khan's neck, “it's the only way to save our crews.” The sharp grazing of teeth over his collar bone helped Khan focus, even as it sparked pleasure down his spine. “Can you control yourself enough to help?”

 

“I'll have to,” Khan replied, as he pressed into Kirk's kisses, “to protect my family.”

 

~

 

Kirk ignored the stares he garnered as he guided a clinging augment to a launching pad. He pried the brunette off of him, noting the immediate hunger in Khan's gaze. “You need to put this on.” Kirk shoved a space-suit into Khan's hands before reaching for his own. He was quickly distracted as Khan bit a chunk out of his helmet. “No!” He went to rip the helmet from Khan's hands, the augment's grip too strong. Well, the helmet was already made useless. Might as well let Khan finish it off. 

 

Kirk sighed, resigning himself to what he needed to do. Why could things never be easy? Kirk guided Khan so he was laying on the ground, glad to meet no resistance this time. He tugged off Khan's skin-tight pants with an effort. If pulling them off was difficult, pulling the space-suit pants on was nigh impossible. 

 

Somehow accomplishing his task, he gazed around for the shirt. He frowned as he failed to locate it. It wasn't like it could have gone far. He glanced at Khan, doing a double take. The brunette was shoving what looked like a lone shirt-sleeve into his mouth. “Damn it, Khan!” He got up, grabbing another shirt and helmet. He straddled Khan's hips in the hope of keeping the augment down. “ _Focus_. Lift your arms.” 

 

Khan blinked up at him, doing as told. Kirk handed the material over, Khan immediately attempting to shove the shirt down his own throat. Taking his opportunity, Kirk pulled the space-suit shirt onto Khan. By the time he had everything adjusted, Khan was swallowing the last bit of the shirt he had priorly worn. Kirk handed over Khan's pants, using the time to change into his own space-suit. He tugged on his helmet, turning to Khan. 

 

~

 

Khan had just snatched a shiny helmet when warm hands were tugging him to his feet. The helmet was gently taken from his grasp. He was confused as it was pulled over his head. He was pretty sure he couldn't eat it if he was wearing it.

 

The solid weight of Kirk's body was pressed to his, allowing Khan to relax. The blond said, “You need to focus. The helmet has a visual guide to lead you to the hatch we'll be entering the _Vengeance_ through. There's a ton of debris you'll need to avoid.”

 

Khan gave a a mindless nod. Debris. Helmet. Guide. 

 

“Khan, be honest. Can I count on you?”

 

Khan opened his mouth. Instead of the answer he had planned, another of those damned coos escaped his lips. On his second try, he managed to say, “I don't believe so.”

 

Kirk grimaced. “Well... just think about Marcus. He threatened to kill your crew. He was going to kill your _family_ , Khan.”

 

Khan felt the sharp rage eat away at the fog in his head. Marcus. The man was despicable. Khan would crush that thick skull with his bare hands, watching the fear and helplessness as life left the pathetic Admiral's body. He offered Kirk a curt nod. The blond examined him for a moment, before getting into position. The instant those hands left him, he could feel the fog fighting to overcome him. Khan fell into position beside Kirk, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

 

Words were spoken, with tones suggesting warnings. Khan didn't make much out. The sudden count down _did_ reach his ears. “Three... two... one...”

 

He had a millisecond to note how poor of a plan this was before he was shot from the ship.

 

So much debris. So much to eat. _Marcus_ , he reminded himself, bringing forth every moment of torture endured at the man's hands. All that lab equipment, used to scrape and cut at him. Lab equipment that he could have eaten.

 

He slammed straight into debris from his distraction, sent jeering horribly off-course. _Focus_ , he reminded himself, returning to his path. The silence of space was replaced with Kirk's worried voice over the head-set in the helmet.

 

“ _I cracked the view screen, I'm flying blind!”_

 

Another voice unhelpfully supplied, “ _There is less than a point-zero-one chance of reaching your destination without the view screen guiding you._ ”

 

Khan drew up a particularly nasty memory of Marcus, hate clearing his mind. He wouldn't be able to get his revenge without Kirk's help, given his current mental state. He veered off course, to Kirk's side. “Follow me. My view screen is still functional.”

 

“Thanks,” Kirk replied, only to add, “You don't need to hold onto me.”

 

Khan realized that he had a hand clenched in the back of Kirk's top. His hand refused to uncurl. 

 

Bigger worries were approaching, as the hatch they were aiming for remained shut. By Khan's calculations, the collision would kill Kirk and leave Khan's helmet and body smashed. Khan would be dead within twenty minutes, tops. 

 

“Scotty, if you can hear me,” Kirk was saying, “release the hatch in three, two... one!”

 

The door flew open just as they reached it.

 

~

 

Kirk tumbled through the hatch, body protesting as he slid across the ship floor. He groaned, trying to figure out which of the many limbs were his own. With a great amount of effort, he managed to push to his feet. The past dictator was soon standing beside him. “How're you doing?”

 

Khan pulled off his helmet. “It appears the threat of imminent death has provided a distraction.”

 

“Good, good.” Kirk gestured between the two men beside him. “Scotty, Khan. Khan, Scotty.” That was all the time he would devote to introduction. “Khan, which way?”

 

Khan gave some answer about a path less likely to draw attention, leading the way. It didn't take long for a group of men to appear. Kirk dodged a stray shot, knocking the phaser from one of the many guard's hands and kicking the feet out from another. He ducked behind a wall, stunning yet another guard as he looked for Scotty. The engineer was soon before him, and they ducked behind a wall. 

 

“He's got a few screws loose, that one,” said Scotty, gesturing down the hall. “Where on earth'd you find him?”

 

Kirk followed Scotty's gaze, cringing at what met his eyes. The eight men laying unconscious on the floor were hardly noteworthy when Khan was eating one of their phasers. “Technically, I found him on Kronos.” 

 

Kirk left his hiding spot, placing a hand on Khan's shoulder. The brunette looked up, blankly. “Remember Marcus. We need your help to reach him.” 

 

Khan pushed to his feet, but not before grabbing a communicator to eat. Kirk sighed, linking hands with the augment. Hopefully the touch would help clear Khan's head a bit.

 

Khan proved unnecessary in knocking out the remaining guards on the _Vengeance_ Bridge. Kirk and Scott took down the guards with a few well-aimed stuns. Marcus swept dull blue eyes over them, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. Kirk approached the man, holding his phaser out before him. He cast a quick gaze at Carol, who stared wide eyed. “Get out of the chair.”

 

Marcus laughed. “You _need_ me. There's a war coming, and you won't survive it without me to lead. If I leave this seat, _Starfleet_ will be obliterated by the Klingons.”

 

“With all due respect,” Kirk bit out, “get out of that chair before I stun you and drag you out of it in front of your dau-” The blond stumbled, barely managing to keep his feet as Khan shoved past him. The brunette had a hand placed on either side of Marcus's skull, muscles tensed as he pressed in. The stun Kirk sent Khan's way had no effect, as did the second and the third. He gripped onto the augment's arm. “Khan, stop it! If you kill him, there's no going back!” 

 

Khan paid Kirk no mind, eyes blazing as he focused on his task. Kirk couldn't even begin to pull Khan away. “Damn it,” he growled, hoping his gut instinct wasn't failing him with its newest suggestion. He ducked between Khan's arms, straightening himself out so he was blocking Marcus from Khan's view. 

 

“Move aside,” Khan ordered, even as he continued to blindly crush Marcus's skull, Kirk remaining between his arms. Through gritted teeth, Khan said, “I want to see the light leave his eyes.”

 

_Act first, think later._ Kirk launched himself at the past-tyrant, arms circling around Khan and chin tucked into Khan's neck. He pressed an opened-mouth kiss on the pulse-point on Khan's neck, relief flooding his form as hands tugged him close. As he heard the ragged breathing of Admiral Marcus. For now, the man was alive.

 

“Scotty,” Kirk said. He didn't have to speak another word, Admiral Marcus stunned in an instant. 

 

~

 

Khan closed his eyes. _Move_. _Kill him_. His one chance. _This_ was the moment to seize his revenge.

 

A hand rested on Khan's right arm, gently stroking up and down.

 

_Marcus_. He pulled from the grip with a sharp motion. He would not let a genetic weakness stop him from killing the person that had inflicted such pain upon him. He looked for the chair.

 

They were no longer on the _Vengeance_.

 

Khan growled, glancing around the space. He was back in the brig; pointless, as the barrier was no longer working, and he wasn't even placed behind where the glass would have been. Before him stood Kirk, a comm to his ear as he gave orders. “Just take it apart if you need to... No, we should wait until things settle down. Yeah. That's good. Kirk out.”

 

“Where is Marcus?” Khan demanded.

 

“Locked away in a room,” Kirk replied. “He's going to have a trial on Earth, like you.”

 

Khan had an arm around the captain's throat in an instant, the blond's hands immediately lifting to pry Khan's off. “You will lead me to him.” The gleam in Kirk's eyes really should have warned him. The scent of replicated 'freshly baked bread' hit him head on. His grip loosened without his permission, Kirk falling to the ground in a painful sounding _thud_. Khan didn't even hear it, accepting a tray of food from a scowling doctor. 

 

With a mouthful of soft, warm, buttered bread, Khan became aware of what was happening. He shivered in an attempt to fight the mental fog, even as he forced more food into his mouth. They were controlling him through his genes. 

 

~

 

“We've got her up and running, Captain,” Scotty informed, “though the _Vengeance_ is a piece of useless metal now.” 

 

Kirk felt some of the tension drain from him at this. “Excellent work, Mr. Scott. Lieutenant Uhura, please try and gain contact with Star Fleet. We'll give them Marcus, and copies of our evidence of his guilt.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she said.

 

“What is it you plan to do with Khan?” asked Spock. “If I may make a suggestion, it would be in our best interests to put him in his cryotube until a legal decision is made.”

 

Kirk sighed. “I'm going to talk to him. Try and convince him to stand trial. Until then, we have a couple ways to keep him from tearing our ship apart.”

 

~

 

McCoy watched with a rare sense of amusement as Khan ate the next piece of metal that McCoy handed over. He was waiting for Khan to realize that he was eating bits of the _Vengeance_ , the ship Khan had spent so long working on. 

 

With the rate that Khan was going, he'd eat all of their food stocks before the hour's end. Spock's suggestion of documenting the _Vengeance_ with pictures and video footage, and then taking it apart and stocking chunks in the _Enterprise_ , turned out to be very beneficial. 

 

Still, McCoy had better things to do with his time than hand-feed pieces of ship to an augment. But _no_ , Kirk insisted no one else could do this. His mutters of, “I'm a doctor, not a pet watcher!” failed to free him of this task.

 

When Khan took the next piece out of McCoy's hands with his mouth, McCoy was starting to reconsider the airlock idea. Even a superhuman couldn't survive suitless and helmet-less out in space. 

 

McCoy reached for another piece of ship. His hand came up empty. He cursed. The rest of the stock was in storage. Any moment now and Khan would just leave and eat random, necessary parts of the ship.

 

This wasn't something that could be repaid with something as simple as a drink. Jim _really_ owed McCoy for this. McCoy pulled the augment against him in a loose embrace. Bright blue eyes shut in pleasure, a soft coo escaping pale lips. “Damn it, man. Don't you have any semblance of self?” 

 

“No,” Khan murmured, strong arms wrapping around McCoy and holding the doctor close. McCoy could smell the mix of sweat, musk, and soap of Khan's skin, silky dark strands brushing his cheek as Khan nuzzled close. “Do you?”

 

McCoy grumbled to himself about the _hideous and putrid smelling_ augment. Because there was no way in hell he found a clingy tribble-like terrorist tantalizing. He leaned closer to keep Khan more thoroughly subdued, and _not_ to get a deeper whiff of an intoxicating scent.

 

Jim really owed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda ended it in the same way as last chapter, but couldn't help myself. Khan/McCoy needed to happen and that was where it wanted to be.
> 
> Lol. Anyway, hope you enjoyed ^-^


End file.
